


Batman & Robin

by mynameissrain



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Cheating, Friendship, Love, Protective Derek, Sad Spencer Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19478866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameissrain/pseuds/mynameissrain
Summary: A university teacher has been found dead, so the team try thwir best to work fast and avoid future deaths but I don't even know why I'm telling you this because that's nit even important, just Garcia–Morgan–Reid content. Enjoy.





	Batman & Robin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SleepyMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyMe/gifts).



> I'll let you know that I'll try to update this and develope a better version. This is the first Criminal minds au I write and I honestly know it's kinda shitty, but I tried really hard :( 
> 
> Hope you like it

Like many others, it was a painfully busy morning in the office. You could see the assistants going from one side to the other with papers, or running after one of the agents to sign an important document. It wasn't scandalous; There was never a scandal in the office–except during Christmas–but rather a murmur that was noticeable.

Reid, Hotch, Morgan, JJ, Emily and Rossi were in one of the offices, dealing with a case; murder of a philosophy professor at the university. She was young, close to her thirties, perhaps just recently. She had been found hanged in her living room. The Heathers movie was played on TV.

"But, if the autopsy says she died before being hung, why would the murderer pretend she hang herself?" Emily asked, leaning over the table, reviewing the photos carefully.

"I think this is a fanatic." Reid explained, intertwining his fingers as he looked at his companions; Through the door came Garcia with a mountain of papers and a nice decoration that held her hair. "We're rushing to assume that it was a classic."

"What do you mean?" Morgan questioned, frowning. He glanced quickly at Penelope, who was still focused on her paperwork, in front of the table.

"I say that we always unconsciously tend to assume that the murderer is someone from their environment, someone they know; family, friends, boyfriend or ex boyfriend, students, co-workers ..." He enumerated, raising his eyebrows, confirming the theory that his team adopted those chances when it comes to prejudging a suspect; the harmful mistake of the _topicazo_.

García took the opportunity to talk:

"I've been doing some research and Maryse made some calls to her ex boyfriend, her children and the police before she died." She exposed, handing out copies of the victim's call log.

"She knew they were going after her," Hotch concluded, exchanging glances with JJ and Emily, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion: "We need to go back to the apartment, we have to find out if there was a struggle, if the neighbors know something ... "

Someone knocked on the door, calling the attention of the whole team despite having entered with an uncomfortable smile and having knocked lightly on the door; He was a tall and moderately strong man. He had dark brown hair and it was over his ears.

Garcia turned completely red when she recognized the green-eyed boy who smiled at her in apology.

"Excuse me, I didn't want to bother, I ..."

"Steve, what are you doing here?" Garcia accused, opening her eyes wide and running to him to start kicking him out. Emily and JJ shared a silent laugh. "Excuse me, really, it's my fault, I–"

"You can leave," Hotch conceded, without looking up from the documents. He passed them one by one; his eyes dancing from page to page. "We'll call you if we need you."

Surprised, –and still ashamed– Garcia nodded frantically. "Thank you very much sir, I'll be back as soon as possible," She assured, apologizing again and saying goodbye to the rest as she left the office, hooking her arm to the young boy's.

"Who was that?" Reid asked, leaning toward Morgan, who pretended to concentrate on the papers, even though a smile betrayed him.

He looked up, meeting the confused expression of the young doctor, who was waiting for his answer.

"It's Steve, Garcia's new boyfriend." He explained, without an iota of shame in the new smile on his face; like a villain's buddy who saw how his boss's plans worked out well.

Reid frowned, surprised, but not entirely impressed; Garcia was probably the sweetest woman he had ever met. It wasn't strange that she had found a man who saw how charming she is.

* * *

"Reid, you have a good memory, do you remember hating a teacher of yours so hard to want to kill them?" Rossi asked.

Hotch had sent them both to the victim's apartment to search her belongings. Meanwhile, he was meeting with Maryse's ex-boyfriend and Morgan had gone to talk to the local police station that called Maryse before she died.

Rossi was searching through the victim's room. Reid, however, was in charge of the living room.

"I hold to my theory that he wasn't a student," Reid insisted, checking one by one the books carelessly stacked on the small bookshelf next to the television.

"What makes you think that?" Rossi questioned from another room, opening the drawers of Maryse's dressing table; It was white, and the light was on.

Reid took a few bound papers that had been stacked on the shelf and met Rossi in the next room.

"Take a look: Beetlejuice, Sweeney Todd, Les Miserables ..." Reid enumerated, passing the small bindings one by one, showing the titles to his partner. Rossi wasn't able to join the points.

"She liked the musicals, and?"

Reid, instead of answering, pulled out his cell phone and dialed Penelope's number. She answered the second tone.

"Tell me Dr. Crazy" said Penelope in a singsong voice. Reid couldn't help but frown; he wasn't crazy.

"Garcia, are you busy?" Reid asked. Rossi sent him a meaningful look, but Reid chose to ignore it. Penelope worked very hard and he didn't want to bother her in the only free time outside of work hours she had.

"Free as a sparrow." She confirmed. Reid could hear the wheels of her office chair sliding on the floor.

"Can you find me if Maryse had recently gone to a musical or if she had any special interest in them?" Reid was reviewing the bindings again. They were the scripts of said musicals. He frowned.

"No problem, I'll call you as soon as I have something," she assured; Reid could already hear the quick typing.

"Thanks Garcia, talk to you later." He said goodbye before cutting the call and inserting the phone back into his pocket.

  
Reid returned to the present: him, Rossi, Maryse, her room. The dresser.

Reid frowned.

"Did you turned on the dressing table lights?" Reid asked, approaching the cabinet, reaching out to touch the bulb; It was too hot for Rossi to have lit it.

"No, when I entered it was already on, why?" Rossi asked this time, confused.

Reid looked around. "How much time difference was there between Maryse's calls and her death?" He inquired.

Rossi frowned and scratched his chin, still not following the current of the young doctor.

"A couple of hours," he said.

"Why would she be in the dressing room knowing that ...?"

"He interrupted," Rossi announced, interrupting him. Reid turned to look at him, confused.

"What? "

"That's why she left the light on, because he came earlier than planned," Rossi reasoned, staring at his own reflection in the dressing table.

* * *

"Hey, baby girl, how are you doing?" Morgan asked, approaching Penelope. She had her back to the door, so she smiled in surprise when she heard his voice.

"I've investigated a little more and it turns out that Maryse also bought recently in a clothing store from the eighties-nineties and, –hold on because this is disturbing– hours before she died, she went to the hairdresser.

Morgan frowned, leaning on one of the tables and crossing his arms over his chest.

"What is the victim doing going to the hairdresser? According to her calls, she already knew that they were going after her ... "He thought, thoughtful.

Garcia made a strange grimace. "Maybe she wanted to be pretty for her killer, maybe it was a role play that got out of hand ..." She suggested, looking up at Morgan, who was chewing on his lower lip, still thoughtful.

"I don't think so" he mumbled "according to the autopsy, she was first poisoned and then hanged, if it had been by accident, he would have left her lying there, he would have called in emergencies or even put her on the ground. The murderer's intention is more theatrical, try to deceive us with a double murder. "

Suddenly, Garcia's phone began to ring, breaking the silence between the two of them; It wasn't uncomfortable, but professional. Both were thinking intensively about the relationship between the data they knew.

Garcia picked up quickly, pressing the speakerphone.

"Reid, you're on speaker, Morgan's here too." She informed, refocusing on one of the screens; from his position, Morgan could see the light of the screen pale in her face, the glasses reflecting the multiple open windows. "I've done the searches that you asked me and she didn't just go to musicals, but Maryse herself was an actress in a musical company. Her last expenses were in a costume shop. "

"You know, by chance, the name of the company?" Asked the robotic voice, which resembled Reid's.

"You're lucky," Garcia hummed, smiling to herself, proud of her own work. "The company is called Rock River."

"If she was a musical actress, she went to the costume shop to buy the clothes, can you find out what plays she had planned?" Morgan asked Penelope, who was already typing quickly.

"If you give me a few minutes, I'll get it for you, and, Reid, anything else?" Penelope asked, already working.

"Actually, this is a more technical question in the physical than in the electronic: Does anyone know where the killer moved?" Said the robotic voice. Morgan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I think Hotch knows that, maybe Emily, why?"

"It's possible that Maryse was at the dresser before the killer came in ..." Reid explained. On the other side of the line, Rossi could be heard thinking aloud and listing the things he was finding.

"That's nonsense, why would she be putting on makeup if she already knew that a murderer was coming after her?" Penelope remarked, although her hands were running along the keyboard and her eyes were bathed in the reflection of the computer algorithms.

"And what makes us think she was putting on some makeup?" Morgan moved away from the wall, approaching Garcia, leaning in her chair.

"What do you mean?" Reid asked on the other side of the phone.

Garcia smiled to herself, appreciating the scenario that had gradually weaved between them; The trio working as one person. Brain, speed and an irresistible looks.

They were something like a super man.

"It means that she may not have been using the dressing table, as such, but hiding or trying to get something out!" Garcia exclaimed, enthusiastically, giving a little jump on the seat with excitement.

"Exactly, baby girl." Morgan confirmed, proud, bending down to kiss her on the head. She smelled like cherry gum.

"I'm on it," Reid announced before hanging up. There was a chaste crackle and the call ended.

"I'm going to the police station to talk to the officers in the area, see you later?" Morgan asked, again walking towards the door.

"A back massage with oil and a bloody mary would be great, Chocolate Thunder." Penelope purred, a mischievous smile on her lips.

Morgan smiled sideways, pointing an accusing finger at her. "Be nice." He warned.

Morgan quickly went through his office to get the car keys and his jacket and went out into the street.

It was a sunny day, the streets were crowded with people walking up and down the street, running like hardworking ants.

Morgan opened the driver's door, sliding into place. Then he settled himself while he started the car.

As soon as the engine roared, the radio started up, playing Highway to hell, from AC / DC.

_Living easy, living free_  
_Season ticket on a ona-way ride_

Morgan headed down the road, reaching for his sunglasses, which were on the dashboard of the car along with a car magazine. Morgan sang to the music, making funny faces.

_Asking nothing, leave me be_  
_Taking everything in my stride_

He stopped in front of a red light, giving slight head-butts to the music, frowning as he sang the high notes.

Waiting for the light to turn green, Morgan looked around; It was such a beautiful day to have to be investigating the murder of a girl. It was such a beautiful a day to even think about death.

Looking to his left, he happened to run into a restaurant where he had dined once or twice with his wife; It wasn't particularly elegant, but the food was delicious and the atmosphere welcoming.

But nevertheless...

_Don't need reason, don't need rhyme_  
_Isn't nothing I would rather do_  
_Going down, party time_  
_My friends are gonna be there too ..._

Morgan frowned, wishing he was totally wrong.

Steve was sitting on the terrace of the restaurant; there was a discreet crystal vase with a red rose in the center of the table, just like that night that was with his wife. Only one thing failed.

Steve was kissing with another woman. A thin girl, red and curly hair.

Morgan gripped the wheel hard, his knuckles turning white.

The light turned green.

* * *

"Did you find anything in the dresser, Reid?" Rossi asked, approaching him.

As soon as the call ended, Spencer had engaged in an intensive search of the dresser drawers. But he couldn't find anything.

"There has to be something, anything ... Something has to fail, somewhere has to be the _hamartia_." Meditated Reid, constantly reviewing the drawers. "I'm ninety-nine percent sure that the lights being on has something to do ..."

Reid looked desperately everywhere; makeup boxes, cases, notebooks ...

Notebooks. 

"Hey, here's something written," Reid announced, holding the notebook victoriously. Rossi leaned closer to him. "« Ich Luge »"

"Ich Luge?" Rossi repeated, frowning. "What does that mean?"

"Ich Luge means 'I lie' in German." Reid stopped for a moment, opening his eyes in surprise.

"What, what's wrong?" Rossie questioned, seeing the young man's sudden silence.

"Of course, everything fits!" Reid said enthusiastically, leaving the notebook in the hands of Rossi, who was still static and totally lost.

Reid moved quickly across the length and width of the room, lowering blinds, closing the door and turning off the lights on the dresser, completely dark.

"Spencer, what are you doing?" He insisted, vaguely following the nervous movements of his partner, who moved from side to side like a shadow.

"Call Hotch, tell them we'll see them in the office, I've got something," Reid said, admiring the scriptures with ink that shines in the darkness.

« _And so I've built a bomb, tonight our school it's Vietnam. Let's guarantee they never see their senior prom_. »

* * *

"Reid, tell us what you have," Emily ordered, leaning against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.

They had driven back to the office as soon as they collected the necessary evidence.

"The killer is a blind fan of the Heathers movie." Reid announced, swaying from heel to toe.

The rest of the agents shared looks.

"A fan of the movie The Heathers?" JJ hesitated, frowning.

"Exactly, see, do you remember what was playing on the TV when we arrived?" He questioned, turning to write on the board. "The victim, Maryse, had scripts of different musicals, and thanks to Garcia, we confirmed that the victim was a musical actress."

"Maryse played Heathers recently, then." Hotch reasoned, looking seriously at the rest of the audience.

"I spoke with Garcia and she confirmed that there have been other murders of different characters from the cast of the musical, Hannah Bécquer, played Martha Dumstuck and Graciela Morales, played Heather Duke." Rossi enumerated, holding his hand to his face, covering his mouth, thoughtful. "Maryse played Veronica Sawyer."

"That means he kills the main characters in the cast." Continued Hotch, leaning over the table, shuffling the papers to sort them according to the data.

"And how can we know who is he going to kill now?" Morgan hesitated.

Reid turned to face his partners, covering the black marker with a satisfactory "click".

"On the dresser there was an inscription in an ink that could only be seen in the dark; the killer left us a clue, the lights on the dresser were on," Reid explained.

"That would also make sense to first poison her and then hang her –it was a staging– he's playing with us." JJ cursed. Slowly, everyone was connecting data; the poison, like Heather Chandler. Hanged, like the false suicide of Veronica Sawyer. Ich luge, as the bulletd they used to kill Kurt and Ram. 

"Exactly, the inscription was a quote from one of the songs in the musical, it talks about a bomb," Reid confessed, his voice taking on a worried hue.

"The company." Hotch muttered, his gaze fixed on the documents. "The company is going to explode, at first it was merely to vent, as they were destroying characters that he admired, but they have stained the name of Veronica Sawyer with an actress who doesn't measure up, that company has no forgiveness from God."

Reid gave Morgan a confused look; his movements were abrupt, cold and impulsive. He didn't control them, but he didn't ignore them either; It was methodical, but wild. Something was gnawing at him inside, like an acid.

"Then we have to talk to the director of the company," said Hotch. "Garcia, when is the next Rock River performance?"

Morgan seemed to have forgotten that Garcia was on the phone, since he frowned when he heard her voice, almost as if it hurt.

"Tonight they perform Dear Evan Hansen's musical." Penelope explained on the other side of the line.

"Great, send us the address and time." Morgan asked, beginning to collect and organize the papers again.

"Are you taking me on a romantic date, bad boy?" Garcia joked. Reid could feel the mischievous smile painted red.

"Garcia, this is no time for jokes, get to work," Morgan ordered, with the coldest voice they'd ever heard. The whole team remained static, watching Morgan leave the room.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Garcia growled. There was no longer any trace of her metaphorical smile.

"No idea, sweetheart, maybe he has a bad day." JJ tried to console her, making an apologetic face at an imaginary Garcia. "We'll call you if we need something."

Reid stared at the door through which Morgan had left.

* * *

  
_«Looks like what drives me crazy_  
_Doesn't have no effect on you-_  
_But I'm gonna keep on at it_  
_Till it drives you crazy, too » Langston Hughes._

Maryse died for being human. For failing, for falling.

For existing.

Her murderer, Hendry Summers, ironically wounded by the actress's boldness to mutilate a character against all kinds of violence, played being judge and curse and ended her life.

Fortunately, the BAU team acted quickly enough to prevent the thirst for revenge in the name of the perfection of a corrupted love story from killing hundreds of lives. It was a victory. It was for everyone.

Reid and Morgan were returning in the same car thanks to the doctor's insistence; since they were solving mysteries ...

"Morgan, can I ask you a question?" Reid suggested, looking at the road. The yellow lines were revealed under the spotlights of the car.

"Tell me," he conceded, casting a quick glance at the young doctor.

"What's wrong with Garcia?" He asked openly.

Morgan wasn't startled by his question. It didn't catch him by surprise. He wasn't impressed.

Nothing could be seen beyond the headlights of the car.

"This morning I saw Steve with another woman in a restaurant." Morgan muttered, taking a deep breath and slowly letting out the air.

Reid frowned.

"His sister? Friend, maybe?" Reid suggested, not wanting to prejudge young Steve, who in case of being guilty, deserved at least a good slap.

Morgan pressed hks lips together as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Reid could hear the leather that lined protesting.

"You kiss your friends and family?" Morgan asked, ironically.

Reid drew a thin line with his lips, pronouncing a silent _touché_.

"Why would he cheat on Garcia?" Reid hesitated. "She's a great girl."

"I don't know, but I'm going to kill him," he cursed. Reid could hear his teeth grinding from so much squeezing.

He looked out the window, silent. He couldn't explain why, but he was beginning to feel a slight buzz drilling into his skull, annoyed.

* * *

_Knock Knock knock_

Someone knocked on the door. Steve looked at the time, confused. _Who would it be at this time?_

He got out of bed, walking to the door at a zombie pace.

Upon opening, he found no one else and no one less than Doctor Reid. He had a frown and arms crossed over his chest.

"Good evening, doctor, can I help you?" Steve asked, confused. He knew that Reid could have crisis from time to time, as Penelope had told him.

"Good evening gentleman, excuse the hours, but I think there is something that you and I should treat from man to man," Reid said. He spoke quickly and seriously.

* * *

Penelope woke up when she felt Steve leave the bed. Confused, she looked at the time as soon as he left the room; Why were they knocning at three in the morning at his door?

Penelope walked stealthily, holstered in her warm bunny pajamas. She heard voices coming from the front door.

Taking care not to make a sound, Penelope looked into the living room, which faced the entrance, discovering that it was Spencer Reid himself who had taken her boyfriend out of bed. She was going to come and see what was happening when something stopped her in her tracks.

"I want you to stop hurting Miss Garcia."

Penelope frowned, confused, hearing her boyfriend echo her own thoughts. _What are you talking about?_

"Don't play dumb Steve, my partner Morgan saw you with that woman in the restaurant." Reid cut him coldly.

Garcia felt her heart beat faster. It was curious; all her life she had read how they defined a broken heart as something slow; the beats slowing down, little by little losing strength ... Until you felt that it was dying inside you.

But on the contrary, her heart was beating fast, and she could feel it behind her eyelids. Like a cruel reminder of every word and every syllable.

She closed her eyes tightly; _You should have known, you should have guessed. You aren't one of those who have a happy ending. Your end is behind the screens, Garcia._

"You're a jerk!" Reid barked, a couple of octaves above his tone. Penelope and Steve fell silent, surprised. "Excuse my vocabulary, but are you aware of what you have?"

Penelope knew no greater way to express her surprise: eyes wide open and mouth open to the floor. This time her heart stopped.

»" Garcia is a brilliant woman, incredibly intelligent, you could spend hours listening to her; but fortunately she is also fun and sweet, she takes care of us like a mother and she loves us like a soulmate ... You know, when I met her I was afraid of her "Penelope drowned a laugh at that confession. "She was invasive and always wanted hugs, but I'm not a hugger so ... In some way, sometimes I worried that my hugs weren't good enough. Morgan hugs her and she blushes and laughs; When Emily or JJ hug her, she takes a deep breath, as if she were rediscovering bits of herself ... Hotch ... Well, Hotch doesn't hug her, but she forgives him because she knows Hotch hugs with words, but I ... I am a disaster "he confessed, looking confused at the man in front of him. "So I ask you how you can have the courage to hurt someone like Penelope Garcia."

Unable to contain herself anymore, Penelope allowed herself to be seen, appearing in the living room. Tears streaked her face, evaporating on her flushed cheeks. A radiant smile decorated her face.

Reid was the first to see her. Then Steve followed his gaze.

"Good evening, Penelope." Reid greeted, uncomfortable, but always polite.

"Good evening, Reid." Penelope smiled, feeling the tears returning to her. "How the hell can you think I don't like your hugs? You seemed smart...!"

Penelope walked over to Reid, pushing Steve away indifferently. Then she hugged the young man tightly, feeling his ribs under her palms.

"How much have you heard ...?" Reid muttered, hiding his face in the gap between her hair and her neck.

"Just everything," she replied, hiding a laugh, vibrating under Reid's long arms.

Reid moved away enough to be able to look Penelope in the eye; They were watery, red and clogged.

"So, you know about ...?" Reid insinuated, looking discreetly at Steve.

"What? About my ex boyfriend being a pig unable to keep his little thing inside his pants?" She smiled sweetly, the deadly tone hidden behind innocence. "Yeah, I know."

Steve reached out, reaching for Penelope's shoulder.

"Princess, I ..." He tried to explain. Penelope swatted his hand away, turning to look at him; the smile was less sweet, more inclined towards schizophrenia. "Eat shit and die, Steve." She signaled, then turned to look at the doctor. "Shall we get going? "

Reid frowned for just a few seconds.

"And your stuff?" Reid hesitated. He would definitely be willing to go for them if Garcia found it too hard.

However, she let herself to shrug.

"I'm going to send some hot agent to pick it up ..." She suggested innocently, pulling Reid's arm on the way to his car. "And maybe kick that idiot's ass."

Reid couldn't help the honest laugh that escaped him.

"For those adjectives, I assume you mean me." He joked, looking for the car keys in his trouser pockets.

Penelope laughed, touched. She still heard the echo of the young doctor's sweet words in her head.

"Of course, my dear Robin."

"Robin?" He hesitated, confused.

"You know, Batman and Robin ..." Garcia tried to remind him.

Reid tilted his head, confused, opening the passenger door for her.

"Oh, of course you haven't read Batman and Robin."


End file.
